


Taming Beasts

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arcee's heat hits her at the worst possible time; trapped in an energon mine while her team tries to hold back a horde of Decepticons. Her savior comes in the form of Megatron's greatest weapon, yet Predaking has no intentions of killing her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [risinggundam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggundam/gifts).



> First place prize for risinggundam in my fic giveaway on tumblr, who wanted Predacee which is a pairing I really should have done earlier than now.
> 
> (And I was gonna write it anyway so plbbbbt)

Arcee had been in worse situations before, left at the mercy of bots only slightly below Megatron on the scale of sadism, crawling through corpses to any glimmer of safety on a battlefield; but that was all left behind on Cybertron. On Earth her biggest worries amounted more to blowing out a tire on a long drive or getting into squabbles over trinkets.

Or, as she was just very abruptly reminded of, her heat cycle deciding to kick in while she was stuck in an energon mine under several tonnes of rock, depleted ore, and soldiers both Autobot and Decepticon trying their best to cave each other's sparks in. She was barely halfway through digging herself out when the all too familiar throbbing warmth from her spark made her collapse to the floor, spasming as it thrummed through the rest of her body. Even as she chewed her lips closed moans were already leaking from them, and she had to pin her hands down to stop them clawing at her interface panel. 

_‘Of all the fragging times…!’_ Her hips were squirming, thrusting wildly into the air and then the ground when she managed to haul herself onto her stomach. Already soaked in coolant and on the verge of letting lube mix in, Arcee thought it was all just her previously skipped heats all building up to take revenge on her for forgetting to update her firewalls in all the excitement of finding Earth. But as she peeled her panel away, letting her shaking digits try to take care of the burning need only getting stronger in her valve’s nodes, she didn't hear the shift of rocks on the other side of the chamber, or the grunt of vents as the intruder clawed his way into the pocket of safety she'd been trapped in.

“I know you're in here, coward, so reveal yourself before-!” Predaking had to stop when he saw what frantic spark he'd sensed hammering desperately from behind the stone wall now in ruins around him. Arcee trained the dim slits of her optics on him, but couldn't lift her helm up as it poured coolant, laying heavy and gasping on the ground. 

“Pr...Predaking?” She didn't have room to sound surprised, not when her spark was already flooding her with so much else in her sensors. 

And as the Predacon stalked closer, the walking fortress at Megatron's disposal flexing claws that could split a Metrotitan in half, he growled his own greeting. “Autobot…” He hadn't noticed where her digits were, dripping a bright blue lube that was already trickling down her thighs. He only stared at her, the tips of his wings like a cape dragging lightly behind him, his biolights burning embers into the dusty gloom. And even though the mere sight of him, snarling and hulking and everything her body was screaming out for, made Arcee defy herself and thrust slowly into her palm, Predaking maintained an innocence mechs could only have if they had spent their whole life in a tube. “There is something off about you…”

Arcee would have laughed if she wasn't certain it would come out as a desperate whine instead. “You...think?” She couldn't resist another buck into her fingers, digging them as deep as they would go to rub on her most neglected nodes, and it was that wiggle of her raised aft that finally wrenched his attention downwards. “Just… kill me already or go away…”

Predaking was growling deep in his vocaliser, an echo from an era centuries before she was even sparked. “I sense that wouldn't be wise,” he said slowly, letting his peds slam and shake the floor with each step further towards her, his wings ruffling together like an agitated Seeker’s yet all the more regal. “I understand a femme's heat can be _agonising_ if left unsated…”

So despite the shelter of his upbringing, he knew what heat was. Of course he did; for all Arcee or a thousand dead historians knew, Predacon ancestors were the reason there even existed any heat cycles to put up with every century, the wild need for interface that stretched into breems and decacyles of nothing but constant, unquenchable desire. A desire so great it often dissolved all inhibitions, all sense of loyalty or grudges in the overriding and absolute need to overload.  
And the feral, ragged edge of Predaking’s voice, the way his optics went so bright as they flicked over her shivering frame, and how gently his claws hovered over her after sliding off his codpiece, was all the proof Arcee needed of that.

“Would you like me to take care of this, Autobot?” he asked, a rasping whisper as he brought his massive body down to feel how her EM field boiled, to see how her legs spread wider beneath him and her winglets pressed flat against her back. And she already knew the answer as soon as she saw his codpiece straining, and realised he was the reason she was so damn helpless, not an Autobot or a Decepticon but a rabid lab beast looking at her like he would eat her afterwards.

Yet her answer was still the same. “Do it, Predaking… frag me, please…” Arcee’s wet fingers slipped from her valve, leaving it empty and gushing as she angled her aft up into his hands and those razors caressing her hips, her thighs, carving into her protoform like he owned every inch of her. Which only made her want him inside her even more.

“As you wish, dear.” It was a dark, savage chuckle that could have easily made a femme overload by itself, accompanied with a heavy weight slapping her back that throbbed like her spark and trickled something thick down her backstrut. Just as the heat made her wet in nanoklicks, so did Predaking need even less time to become erect, pulling Arcee’s legs further apart to feel how her valve ached for something more than just fingers, enveloping his dripping tip eagerly as it slowly eased apart her folds. 

“AHHH! Ah… ahhh…” Even as Arcee tried to muffle her hissing moans, Predaking stopped abruptly with only the first inch of his shaft inside, despite his hips rocking forwards, so close to thrusting in and full sheathing himself. 

“Are you in pain?” he asked, a wisp of fire in his breath as he heaved vents on the side of her faceplate. But despite his instincts and how deliciously hot her valve felt and how it begged to pull him in deeper, he waited until she shook her helm and gasped out an answer. 

“A… a little... but… keep going, please…” As massive as the Predacon was, with the thick lube coating its shaft more and more as it slid inside and cleaved her spasming walls apart, Arcee’s valve readily stretched all the way around it even as it formed a thick outline under her plates by the time he hilted. The two overloads she'd gotten by now helped somewhat, completely clouding whatever pain she might have felt at being torn so easily, confirming that only a spike that size could have managed to satisfy her like this.

She was in bliss, and Predaking was a heaving shadow over her, wings billowing out around them like curtains pulled across a boudoir, and his fangs all but skimmed on her neck as he patiently, eagerly waited for her to adjust fully. And as soon as she sighed in that lingering burst of pleasure, he started the onslaught. Pulling his hips back, raking across those so sensitive walls before slamming inside again, spurting lubricant in a sticky shower all over his clenched thighs. The brutal rhythm had Arcee’s moans making earthquakes, hard vibrations through the rock as Predaking pistoned back and forth and grinded her into the floor marked by his talons gouging the granite like it was melted energon.

“Yes, Autobot, moan for me…! Mmm, no other mech can frag you like this...” Predaking still ghosted flames across her face, riding her hard and slamming into her protoform in a way that left bruises she'd be proud of, snapping his wings out like he could form a vortex around them both where they’d frag until the end of time- or at least until his climax, which Arcee could only hope was a long while away. She fell into a loop of complete submission, letting her aching body and groans speak for her until one thing crossed the hazy, love-drenched mess of her mind. 

“Ar… Arcee…” 

“Hm?”

Predaking slowed his thrusts only slightly so he could hear her over the harsh slap of metal and her own moans. “My name… is Arcee…”

Predaking was silent, still for the only few moments of rest she'd be given, before a new kind of growl echoed through her backstrut. “And a lovely one at that. Arcee…” If the sound of her name teased from that barbed vocaliser wasn't enough, the thick glossa lapping in a messy kiss along her face had her thrusting into him again, anything to resume the marathon of fragging. But there was only a few more thrusts left, hard and shallow ones that struck her ceiling nodes just as they were flooded with yellow, beacon bright transfluid, Predaking’s roaring release easily eclipsing the last of Arcee’s pleasure. The flood still trickled out even when his vocaliser went low, staining the floor beneath them both in blue and yellow as his wings fell in limp sheets, but he refused to pull out just yet. In fact, Arcee still felt his thick ridges pressed into her exhausted valve as her vision went black, her tingling senses and heaving vents faded and all she could feel was claws so gentle on her helm, and a voice so gentle in her audios.

“Rest now, Arcee. I won't hurt you.”


	2. Chapter 2

At the very least, Predaking kept his word. Arcee slept swaddled in a soft darkness that didn't want to leave her, almost made her forget how intense the past breem had been, or that she'd just let the most dangerous mech on Earth next to Megatron himself frag her senseless.

But time passed in that darkness, enough for Predaking to decide to remove himself from her and put his glossa to work. At first all she felt was a strange lapping across her thighs, over the light bruises his pounding hips had left, but as her optics blinked online they saw the Predacon still nestled between her legs, licking up the half-dried stains of lube from her protoform. 

“What are you… hey!” Predaking’s tongue stalled at the sound of her indignation, but he only pulled away when he'd finished sucking up the last traces of her arousal. 

“You were in need of cleaning,” he said, dragging his glossa across his lips like a starving animal. Though everything else about him, the glow of his optics and how he tenderly held her gaze, was shockingly gentle. 

“I can… do that myself…” Predaking cocked an eyeridge, probably doubting that Arcee’s own glossa could reach where his could, but he didn't argue as he left her to recover her strength. She could still feel his fluids warm in her chamber, almost soothing against her sputtering spark. The blasted heat was sated for now, but Primus only knew in all his twisted humour how long she’d have until she was needing a spike again. And she didn’t even want to think of the implications of being trapped with a volatile Predacon, even one with such alluring stares and purring growls.

So she forced herself upright, clamping her panel closed as she shovelled gritty air through her vents, and tuning her audios for any sign of peds on rock or the faint pulse of an EM field approaching. But apart from the shift of the earth and energon thudding around her body, all was silent. 

“The fighting ended some time ago,” Predaking told her, peering up past the ceiling of stone keeping them from daylight then turning a cautious glare on her. “Megatron would have expected me to kill any Autobot I found...”

“But you didn't, obviously,” Arcee pointed out, though the low rumble from his vents made her almost wish she kept quiet, at least until his glare dropped and instantly lost all threat.

“Even without instincts clouding everything… I doubt if I could have,” he confessed. “You show no hostility, not even fear… what makes you different, Arcee? Why do the others of your kind hate my own?”

Arcee blinked; though the haze of heat on her processor was finally starting to wisp away she still couldn't quite understand what he was asking. It wasn't an accusation, more like a plea of confusion, especially with how his wings seemed to frame the question with their twitching braces. “...We don't hate Predacons.” She didn't, at least, and she knew Optimus only had the will to hate Megatron. 

Now Predaking was the one who blinked, just before sliding rage-glistened fangs over his lips as he snarled, “Then why did you kill those growing in the creator’s lab?” Now that he was accusing, demanding an answer with his wings spread wide to block all escape routes, Arcee knew what he meant and would have been justified in feeling terrified. 

But she was only exhausted, filled with a deep-rooted ache that made even the thought of standing seem as impossible as facing Unicron. She closed her optics, weary of even speaking but now knowing what she had to say. “We didn't… it wasn't our plan to destroy them. We were reporting on a Decepticon sighting, and… everything just blew up. On Decepticon orders. Our only enemy is Megatron… who’s been manipulating you this whole time.”

Whatever Predaking made of the implication, that his mighty leader was no better than a scheming slag stain, Arcee couldn't see it. She could only hear him chewing and slicing through his anger when he asked, “And how do I know this is true?”

“Think about it, Predaking… Megatron wants all Autobots destroyed, but he also wants to stay in power- no matter what. If you wanted to, you could easily defeat him all by yourself. And he knows that. So imagine what kind of threat a whole army of Predacons would be to him... a whole army controlled by you.“ She was no strategist and certainly not a negotiator, but those were the plain facts as she knew them. No flourish, no exaggeration, nothing that would send Predaking on an immediate path of vengeance to Megatron. Which was perhaps why he ended up believing her, this weary Autobot who would have taken much longer to come up with a lie as convincing as the truth.

And as he accepted that truth, his claws had been fusing themselves together into a razor-lined fist that sliced a giant chunk of rock from the wall he slammed it into. Dust erupted in his face, but his optics still blazed like magma-coals plucked from the core of the Earth. Other than that, he took it quite well.   
“If what you say is true… then Megatron does not deserve me in his ranks.” 

“You're… leaving the Decepticons?” Arcee asked, not expecting such a feral spark to flip so quickly. Yet the usual wariness of a bot changing loyalties so easily didn't flood her... because this wasn't a Decepticon who'd followed Megatron all the way from Cybertron, across light years and battlefields. This was a resurrected war machine forced into fight for his side. 

“If they were the ones to kill my brethren… then there is nothing there worth returning to,” Predaking declared with a familiar, muffled weariness in his voice. He faced the ragged hole he'd carved into the cave wall, his wings dragging on the floor like manacles chained to his back, and Arcee wasn't sure if he was planning to leave or just stay standing there like a sad, sorrow-etched statue. 

“Will you join the Autobots, then?” she asked slowly, not sure which answer would be best. 

“...I have nowhere else to go.” He only turned his head around to face her, ember eyes narrowed. “But… will your Prime accept me? Or will he see me as just another threat, someone to drive to extinction?”

Arcee sighed once, with the most simple answer glowing in her mind. “He’s not Megatron.”

That assurance was always good enough for her, and after a moment of thought it was good enough for him. “Then I will go with you to them. And I will be slave to no one no more.” 

The hope in his voice, as hesitant as it was, made a smile break on Arcee’s face even if it refused to crack the hard steel of his own, though with her optics gently closed she didn't see him approaching or those claws as long as her servos reaching down to pull her up. 

“Hey!” She was limp against his chest as he cradled her, carrying her through the tunnel he'd made. 

“You are in no state to walk,” he stated, each step steady on the rough ground with her legs draped over one of his huge hands. “I will go wherever you say to.” 

Arcee was about to argue, but he was right. She could still feel the ache his spike left ringing through her frame after all the overloads, and it would only get worse if she tried using her legs for anything. And in any case, his spark was a lovely inferno against her cheek, soothing those aches as it ebbed against her body. Even when they reached daylight, the remnants of the old battle left in scuffs and the stench of plasma blasts all around, the sun was just a distant flare compared to his spark. 

Predaking was silent as he carried, apart from the rustle of his wings and the low growls curling in his vents, but now above ground he told her something low in her audios, something that she should have realised by then. “I feel that I should warn you… it is very likely you are carrying now.”

Arcee had to jolt herself out of a blissful trance to let the outrage in. “Carrying? You… you mean a _sparkling?!_ ” No matter how tense she went against him, Predaking still held her tightly with a blank faceplate.

“You may reject it if you wish, or even terminate it,” he told her as he tried to still her attempts at squirming. “But… I would look forward to reviving my kind with you.” He flashed a tiny glint of fangs at her, and for the first time she realised he was smiling at the prospect. She might have been as well, if she didn't have enough to worry about.

“...Let's just deal with the Autobots first,” she muttered, curling against his chest and that envelope of warmth that was the only thing keeping her calm.

“As you wish,” Predaking said, stretching a wing out so it could shield her from the worst of the high sun overhead.


End file.
